Chapter 13: The Weight of a Flower, The Heat of a Soul

Ihan took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart like an excited child. It wasn’t as if this was the first time he was seeing Hwaun. It wasn’t even the first time in a long while. Yet, he didn’t know why he felt as exhilarated as if he were reuniting with a lover separated by a lifetime.

Finally, in the distance, a figure appeared—beautiful, as if an immortal had descended to earth riding the moonlight. It was Yeon Hwaun, the Emperor’s sole partner between heaven and earth.

“I greet Your Imperial Majesty.”

Having walked past the gate, Hwaun knelt on one knee at a distance to offer his greeting. The Emperor, who had been momentarily dazed by Hwaun’s appearance, finally snapped out of it and practically ran to him, taking his hands to lift him up.

“Why did you walk all this way instead of taking the palanquin? Do your legs not ache?”

Even after giving such a magnificent gift, his first words were of worry. It meant that boasting about the greatness of his gift was trivial compared to his concern for Hwaun.

Normally, Hwaun would have withdrawn his hand out of awareness for the onlookers, but tonight, he felt no such desire. Instead, he gripped the Emperor’s hand even tighter and answered.

“They do not ache. But Your Majesty… why have you given me something so undeserved?”

“Undeserved? In truth, my heart wanted to fill the path so thickly with flowers that the ground would not be seen, but I refrained, fearing you would be saddened by the death of so many precious blooms.”

“Is that so?”

Hwaun let out a small laugh, taking the words as a joke, but only Eunuch Oh—the only one who knew the Emperor was being entirely literal—secretly let out a sigh of relief in the background.

Then, as Ihan ran his fingers over the hands he held, his face suddenly crumpled into a frown.

“Your hands are cold. The autumn night air is chilly; I fear I have made you suffer for no reason….”

“…I am fine, Your Majesty. My legs do not ache, nor am I cold.”

“No, no. I was thoughtless. I assumed you would board the palanquin halfway….”

Looking at the Emperor—who, despite giving a gift most would spend their lives praying for, only worried instead of boasting—Hwaun felt a sudden tightening in his chest. It wasn’t sorrow or pain. It was the overwhelming emotion of being loved so excessively that he felt he could die of happiness.

“Your Majesty. …Majesty. Please, listen to me.”

Hwaun spoke in a gentle voice to calm Ihan. Only then did Ihan stop his fretting and look directly into Hwaun’s eyes. Seeing his own reflection in those deep pupils, a thrill beyond description surged through his body.

Even if he possessed all the lands under the sun, it would not compare to possessing this one man. Hwaun, holding the Emperor’s absolute heart, spoke.

“Your Majesty always feels pity for the path I walked in the past.”

“…….”

“And is that not why you told me to consider this road today as the path I will walk forward?”

Ihan nodded as if possessed. Hwaun was right. Since he could not be there for the days Hwaun had walked toward him, the Emperor had resolved that for all the remaining days, he would protect him and ensure he saw and heard only the most beautiful things.

Hwaun’s eyes grew moist again as he continued.

“But Majesty, to me, that flower-strewn path was also the path I have already passed.”

“What… do you mean?”

“Because every… hardship—though I cannot even call them that—those days ultimately allowed me to see Your Majesty.”

If Hwaun—no, Haun—had not lived through the hardship of losing his parents as a child; if he had not lost hope and forgotten how to dream of tomorrow, he might not have cherished the hope he felt in his heart when he first saw the Emperor on that street.

If he had not suffered as a beggar wandering the streets, he would not have caught his Master’s eye to learn martial arts, and even if Your Majesty had opened a path for commoners, he would not have been able to seize the opportunity.

And if Haun had not died so hollowly that day… then the miracle of standing before Your Majesty now under the name Yeon Hwaun would never have happened.

“Since all those days led me to be by Your Majesty’s side as I am now….”

Ihan wanted to say something. He wanted to open his lips and express his heart. But he felt that if he showed even a crack of emotion, he might burst into tears in front of all the servants, making it hard even to breathe. Hwaun spoke:

“Your Majesty. How could I not cherish the path I have passed?”

“Un-ah….”

“Your Majesty has already filled my entire life with flowers and brilliant light.”

Thus, no one in heaven would dare call the Emperor frivolous. Not even when Ihan, knowing full well the servants were watching, cradled Hwaun’s face and pressed their lips together.

The surrounding servants immediately prostrated themselves on the ground in silence. They did not dare lift their gaze. Among those who had effectively vanished, Ihan pulled the startled Hwaun’s waist closer and gently soothed his back with a large hand.

Even as Ihan sucked on his lower lip and tilted his head to lick the gap between them, Hwaun did not easily open up, conscious of his surroundings. Yet, he could not ultimately ignore the Emperor’s movement as he pleaded with such desperate devotion.

As the gap carefully opened, the Emperor did not miss it and pushed his tongue inside. When the hot flesh entered his mouth, which had grown cool from the night air, a sensation like being engulfed in flames washed over Hwaun, causing his body to collapse helplessly into the Emperor’s arms.

The beginning was somewhat hurried, but Ihan’s movements as he explored Hwaun’s mouth were incredibly careful and soft. It was not an act of mere lust. Rather, it was the heart the Emperor wanted Hwaun to know at this moment.

That I love you this much. With a tenderness and desperation that words cannot express—that I cherish you this much. That was everything Ihan wanted to convey.

And Hwaun, receiving that heart through the contact of their tender skin, relaxed his entire body and accepted Ihan, surrendering his whole self. Hoping that Ihan would no longer feel guilt over the past. Hoping he would realize how happy he made Hwaun. Hwaun, too, took the tip of the Emperor’s tongue into his mouth with a sincere, desperate heart.

After a short while, their lips slowly parted in the silence. Ihan stayed close, meeting Hwaun’s eyes directly, and wiped his wet lips with his thumb.

“Let us go inside.”

The whispered voice, intentionally intimate, seeped directly into Hwaun’s ear. Hwaun couldn’t bring himself to answer aloud; he simply nodded, his face flushed. Their hands met habitually, fingers intertwining deeply.

It was a night for two people who had finally met at the end of a path that had been arduous, but not only so.

“Ma… Majesty… please, stop….”

Lying prone and gripping the pillowcase with his slender fingers, Hwaun pleaded with the Emperor in a completely broken voice. However, the Emperor did not pull his lips away from Hwaun’s scar as he whispered.

“Why is that?”

“Majesty… not there anymore….”

Hwaun was almost sobbing. Every time they shared a bed, Ihan would obsessively caress the scars left on his shoulders and back, to the point where Hwaun felt as if those areas had become erogenous zones; he would shiver at the slightest touch. The scars had faded so much that the horror of the initial injury was no longer readable, yet Ihan continued to lick them with devotion, as if performing a ritual.

To be honest, it was indeed the Emperor’s ritual. To Ihan, those scars were evidence of the time he had ignored Hwaun and made his life difficult. They were the traces of his mistake when he looked at the danger and pretended not to see.

Whenever he saw those scars, Ihan felt sick, as if the days he never wanted to recall had taken root in Hwaun’s body forever. He feared that every time Hwaun thought of the scars, he might remember the painful times and the harshness of Ihan’s face and voice back then.

So Ihan sought to plant different memories in those scars. He hoped that area would remain not as a trace of pain, but as evidence of the love he poured out. He wanted Hwaun, upon seeing his scars, not to remember the moment of injury, but to recall nights like tonight when Ihan aroused him with his touch. Thus, for Ihan, it was nothing less than a ritual of atonement and salvation.